


an open letter to my fat ass: you stupid cunt, why can’t you cheer up?

by Anonymous



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Self Confidence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28528308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: this is just a ramble about my relationship to sex and my body. mostly my body.content warnings for body shaming (from myself and like. society.) and self hatred. lots of fatphobia, internalized and external. like. Lots. gender dysphoria, sexuality problems. mentions of eating disorders and idealization of thin bodies. no references to assault or sexual abuse.this is hateful. to myself.
Kudos: 2
Collections: Anonymous





	an open letter to my fat ass: you stupid cunt, why can’t you cheer up?

**Author's Note:**

> prelude: i’m in no physical danger. this is not a suicide note. this is not a cry for help or else i’ll hurt myself. i’m just disappointed in myself, physically.
> 
> i’ll get help some day. maybe i can stop hating myself so much.

i love to talk about sex. i love to think about sex.

i love to crack jokes with my friend about dicks and pussy and hole. it’s funny. i love to say something and make people laugh. sex is funny. sex is funny! when i think about other people having sex (fictional characters mostly. random people who don’t exist but have features i find attractive in my head) i enjoy it. there is nothing gross about the _act_ of sex. it changes when it’s me.

i am 290lbs and 5’5. i am short and fat and i hate it. i am the first person to jeer at my body weight and shame myself. i think and i know i am gross to look at. i am losing my hair and i am dfab. to the outside world i am an ugly fat cis girl who is going bald and not even in a pretty way. every day i think i am disgusting to look at and feel ashamed when i have to be seen.

i have tried fo avoid eating but i can’t make it far. i am on medications that make me gain weight. i am unable to exercise because of how fast i exhaust myself. i’m unable to lose what i want to both better myself and feel better. i understand it is a fatphobic society that tells me to feel ashamed but it really isn’t something you can unlearn so quickly. it isnt something you can unlearn and hold on to your lessons when you have a world around you that would want you dead or hidden than to see you be fat.

every day i feel the same pangs of self hatred as if i need to teach myself a lesson. you are losing your hair, you dress like a loser, you are an intrusion on everyone’s lives. your fatness is an intrusion. the things i tell myself are the things i’m told. my family hates my fatness. i have no friends who are as fat as me. fat positivity makes my skin crawl and i can blame myself for being so self-hating it makes me want to tear down positivity and i know it’s everything i need to work on but if there is one thing that i feel fault in far positivity is that it is so uncomfortably feminine.

fat women deserve positivity. fat women DESERVE that support. and every time i shake myself and scold myself i remember the pain and burdens and unfairness that comes upon fat women who are mistreated and yet flourish in such tremendous beauty and confidence. i’m jealous, quite plainly, but i can never quell that because i know that there is no place for me among fat positivity. fat positivity is so precisely feminine and i feel that it is not wrong to look at something you are not and say such. it is not wrong, and it is not diminishing of the strength of fat women to say “i am not a fat woman, so this doesn’t apply to me”.

i am a trans man. i do not see fat trans men loved the way they deserve and it is no ones fault but the society that makes us need these clusters of positivity to ensure our fellow people are supported. i have never felt the compassion that i want and i know it is the poison in my burden. christ. every time i voice my self hatred i feel the eyes of every other person who deals with the same self hatred and i hear them ask me why i can’t keep my hatred to myself. as if i should have learned at some point that i am meant to love myself in spite of hatred. but where is the source of love when there is nothing around me that can charge that love?

it comes back to sex. an infinite band that coils around itself; a snake devouring its tail. i have never had sex, despite how much i joke and think about it. i have had a partner but we never had sex. firstly, it was a long distance relationship. we talked about having sex. we were comfortable talking about it. 

but then we met in person. we kissed. we hung out for the weekend i was there. i spent twenty minutes lounging on their bed waiting for them to look over and see me suggesting. it was all in good humour. we made out, and then we fell asleep. we never had sex during our relationship. eventually, we broke up after they realized they were aromantic. it happens. i wish them no ill.

the demon inside me, who hates every curve of my body and how the fat rolls, tells me that they saw my body and were repulsed. this makes no sense, for they were fat as well. they worked out. they ate well. they were still fat. because bodies are like that, and sometimes you will always carry some kind of shape or form to yourself. this is the reminder i try to carry for myself, that there are parts of me that i cannot change and things i can. i hold no ill feeling to my ex. jealousy, perhaps. i suppose i am a jealous person. i have always wanted more for myself that i don’t know if i can’t obtain because of my own incompetence or because of the world against me. it’s both, for sure.

when i masturbate, i feel a deep shame. i enjoy myself and then feel my body crash and i feel my stomach flop. i have never once been abused or mistreated sexually — i acknowledge the privilege of never knowing sexual abuse and the way it hurts others who may certainly be in similar positions as me — yet i feel such a tremendous discomfort when i am forced to acknowledge my body alongside sexuality. sometimes when i touch my breasts accidentally outside of masturbation i feel that same sexual discomfort, as if i’ve just broken a rule. i’m not even feeling myself up i’m just nudging my tits. like what the hell.

i’ve tried to believe in those suggestions and guides of loving your body. our world is over saturated with well intentioned skinny people trying to be nice but doubling over themselves with backhanded insults once you aren’t appreciative. so i look for guides and suggestions by fat trans people for fat trans people. and it’s never what i need. i don’t feel like i could be loved as a gay fat trans man. there’s a part of me that thinks i should just be Normal about my situation and date women, because there’s a part of me that thinks women are safer and won’t hurt me. but i’m not attracted to women. but i feel like i’m more exposed to the chance of a rude man when it comes to dating. like. Men. they’re like that. it’s infuriating.

it’s such a mess to feel this way and it’s not doing my any favours but for fucks sake is there anything out there that can make the journey to the size i want to be comfortable? is it possible to have accountability checks not be swallowed by fatphobia? is it possible to look at myself and feel love for what i see? the only thing i think i have going for me is that i wouldn’t mind my body if i was skinny. i openly acknowledge that my gender dysphoria would be better if i was skinny. my sexuality would be healthier if i was skinny. i resent my body every day and the exhaustion it feels even before i take my first steps. there is no world around me of a supportive family or loved one, one who sees my body and helps me learn to love it completely, and not in spite of my size.

you can’t love someone without loving yourself but when every inch of you is smothered in bulbous skin and subcutaneous fat and you wake up unable to breathe because the weight on your neck smothers your esophagus in your sleep and you pick your waistline and you know nothing fits because of your arms tits and belly and you can get a sense of what won’t fit before you even get the new pants over your knee and you can’t go out without catching yourself in the mirror and feeling ashamed and sorry for the people you’re going to embarrass by waddling beside them— what IS there to love?

when you only know resentment and jealousy, how can you find anything valuable to love inside your swollen sweaty body? how can you unlearn self hatred when you live in a world where everyone around you tells you that your fatness is your fault? how can you bring other people up and wave your supportive flags if you hate how you look and there’s no room for you in the march?

i want to voice my feelings but every breath someone reminds me you’re putting others down when you Talk Like That. yeah. that’s the point. not to hurt others, but to hurt the ugly bitch typing this all out. i want to hurt them.


End file.
